


After

by commodorecliche



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Advice, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Domestic, Established Relationship, I dunno what else to tag this ugh, Love, M/M, Relationship Advice, Relationship Problems, Resolved Arguments, Resolving Problems, Romance, Talking, Working things out, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:34:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commodorecliche/pseuds/commodorecliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Marco's mama had always told him that every couple fights...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	After

**Author's Note:**

> This is an upload of an ficlet I wrote a while back for a lovely anon who wanted to see _Jeanmarco. 'things you said that made me feel like shit'._

**::**

His mama had always told him that every couple fights. She always told him that it's normal, and that _not_ fighting once in a while is unhealthy in a relationship.

 _“All couples fight, CoCo,”_ she would tell Marco after she and his father had spat razors at each other in the kitchen.

 _“It’s better than bottling things up,”_ she would tell him afterwards, once she and dad had packed away their loudest weapons and apologized with kisses instead.

He and Jean don’t fight for a year, aside from minor, petty bickering. But even so, when their first real fight happens, Marco is less prepared than he had expected to be. Even seventeen years of watching friction rise between his parents, two people who undoubtedly loved each other, just hadn’t prepared him to experience it for himself.

Walking down the sidewalk - in any direction that might lead him _away_ from their apartment - Marco tries to ignore the feeling of dried salt on his cheeks and the deep-seated twist that has knotted itself up tighter and tighter in his gut. He doesn’t even totally remember what they were fighting about: it was something about exams and housework. It was something silly and inconsequential, and probably something that honestly wasn't worth fighting over, and yet Marco isn’t all that surprised, because it was little things that had always started the big fights in his house.

He tries his best to tell himself that this is normal. Because deep down, he’s sure that it is. Everyone fights, everyone shouts, everyone will eventually get caught up in the heat of the argument and spit out something that they don’t mean to someone they love.

Jean certainly did.

_“You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know? Bitching and moaning about fucking nonsense!”_

And Marco isn’t exactly innocent either.

_“Would it kill you to fucking ONCE help me out? You’re goddamn selfish, Jean.”_

It’s normal, he supposes... but it doesn’t make him feel any better.

His pocket has been vibrating fairly consistently for the last thirty-five or so minutes, and it’s only once he feels like he’s put enough space between him and their apartment to breathe that he even bothers to take it out of his pocket.

Four missed calls and seven texts...

He skims the texts - all from Jean, of course. Each one is progressively more concerned than the one before it and somehow that actually manages to make Marco feel worse.

_/This is such bullshit/_

_/Where the fuck you gunna go at 12 in the goddamn morning, Marco?/_

_/Quit being so dramatic and come the fuck home./_

_/Marco it really isn’t safe to be out alone this late./_

_/You've been gone a while......... Where are you?/_

_/Babe please answer your phone. Are you okay???/_

_/Baby just tell me you’re okay and i'll leave you be/_

Marco quickly checks the time on his phone; it’s a little past 1:00 am now, which means he’s been gone for almost an hour... He lifts his gaze and drags his eyes over his surroundings; late night in the middle of the city jungle. He’s walked past countless dark alley ways and walled-off corners by now, and yeah, he knows Jean is probably right that it isn't safe for him to be out alone.

He looks back at his phone screen, finger hovering for a moment over Jean’s contact, almost ready to select it and call him back. He moves to press call, but as he's interrupted as another text comes through.

_/I’m in the car, gunna drive around till I find you, Marco, this isn’t safe/_

Marco sighs, not even hesitating this time as he tells his phone to call his boyfriend.

Jean picks up after just one ring.

“Marco??”

“…Yeah, it’s me.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

Marco glances around him, looking for a street corner or something that he can use as a landmark.

“I’m at 17th and Union,” he mumbles.

“Okay, stay there, I’m picking you up.”

“Okay,” Marco says, pausing momentarily, “Bye.”

Jean is quick to reply.

“Stay on the line with me, you don’t have to talk but-”

Marco hangs up anyway. He isn’t trying to be difficult or spiteful, but he’s still a little angry and still a little upset, and yeah, he knows he's being a bit petty. He isn’t proud of it, but it is what it is.

He doesn’t answer when Jean calls him right back, but he does at the very least text Jean to tell him that he’ll be waiting for him.

**::**

When Jean pulls up, Marco gets in the car without a word, and Jean drives off almost as soon as the door is shut. They travel the short drive back to their apartment in silence, and Marco feels absolutely wretched. Jean gets out of the car first, not looking back to wait for Marco as he unlocks the front door of their apartment and slips inside. And at this point, Marco is sure that Jean must feel pretty wretched too.

When Marco comes inside, he notes almost immediately that the kitchen is clean. It certainly hadn't been when he'd first stormed out earlier - that stupid kitchen the source of this whole, ridiculous fight.

He follows Jean through the apartment with slow, quiet steps towards the living room. Jean settles onto the couch with a sigh and curls his legs up to himself. He rests his chin on his knees and makes a point not to look at Marco. 

Marco realizes quickly that Jean’s been crying too. 

There's a few moments of silence that sits like a barrier between them, and the longer it stands there, the worse Marco feels. It's only after a few minutes that Jean speaks in a soft tone, his words mumbled slightly into his knees.

“I shouldn’t have called you crazy.” He says, pausing for a beat, but still not daring a glance at Marco. He shrugs, face tense as ushers out the rest of what he wants to say, “I didn’t mean it… I- I shouldn’t have said it.”

Marco breathes in a slow inhale, leaning back against the wall of their living room.  

“I’m sorry I called you selfish. I was just mad. I don't think you're selfish, Jean...”

“It’s okay.” Jean mumbles back to him, finally peering at Marco from over his knees. He shrugs lightly, shifting his eyes away from Marco. “I don’t think you’re crazy, either.”

“I know you don’t.”

Marco pauses, waiting to see which one of them might say it first. 

Marco just guesses it'll have to be him. 

“I love you.” Marco says calmly.

And Jean nods knowingly.

“Love you too…”

**::**

_“Everybody fights,”_   his mama always told him. _“I promsie you, CoCo, everybody fights. You’re gunna get mad, you’re gunna say mean things, someone you love will make you feel bad. But fights don’t define a relationship - it’s what you do after the fight that matters.”_

**::**

**Author's Note:**

> You can find a rebloggable version [HERE](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com/post/125100001013/oh-god-i-want-you-to-do-all-of-those-prompts). 
> 
> And as usual, you can find me on either my [tumblr](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com) or my [twitter](https://twitter.com/commodorecliche). 
> 
> Thanks everyone!


End file.
